Delightfully Dangerous (Knights Without Armor Book 1)

by Marly Mathews

  She would not lower herself in that manner again. Indeed, she would temper all of her reckless abandon and behave like the proper young lady everyone prayed she could be. It would startle those who knew her best. It would dash Rose’s plans, but it had to be. No longer would she be known as the girl who had used her fists to defend Lord Tisbury from Lord Chorley. That had been a terrible mistake. One that she could never live down. She would carry it with her to her grave. As Lady Lydia Radcliff she would be the perfect young miss. But as Jamie Poole—well, she’d do whatever she pleased. She’d raise hell and not feel an ounce of guilt about it.

  Richard could keep his secrets. She would not betray him, no matter how many people were urging her to make him prove himself. If he wanted to be known as a lazy lord, so be it. There was nothing she would do to prove that otherwise. He had a reputation he was proud of—and now…she would have to endeavor to salvage her own.

  Accepting James Newson might have served to rile Richard up, but she would not play with Mr. Newson’s affections any longer. She was going to set him free, and relegate herself to a life on the shelf.

  “Mama?” she asked softly. “Could we go back to Maidstone House after tonight?” Just because she wasn’t going to be in London, didn’t mean that Jamie had to disappear completely.

  “It shall take some time to pack and arrange it, but I’m certain that Micah shouldn’t mind. But…but my dear…how shall you…”

  “I shan’t have Mr. Newson. He deserves to marry a lady who will be completely devoted to him. I am not that lady. I…I refuse to make a fool of myself over Lord Tisbury any longer, Mama. Perhaps, perhaps, you are right, maybe I will steal my own happiness from myself, but I cannot marry a man just because he feels obliged to marry me. I want him to love me. He…he doesn’t feel about me the way that Papa felt about you. You didn’t have to chase Papa, he…”

  She feared that Richard only wanted her to marry him because he wanted her as his possession. Possessing someone and loving someone were two entirely different things altogether. If she wanted to be a possession, she could just marry Newson and doom herself to a life of misery. It wasn’t enough for him to win her in a bargain, she wanted him to show her just how much he wanted her. She wanted him to win her hand by winning her heart. She wanted his love.

  “We never had to chase each other at all,” her mother said softly. “Our love was a mutual understanding. It was something that grew slowly on his part, and I fell headfirst after he pulled me out of that river, but you are right. If Lord Tisbury wants you as his wife it is only proper that he pursues you. But when he does, do not shirk his advances. You, my dear, have done enough. It’s time for him to cast off his lackadaisical ways and pursue the woman he loves. It is well known here in Town that Lord Tisbury quite fancies the ladies, but I do not know if I believe the gossipmongers. He seems rather lazy and a little bookish to have kept a mistress, still, he’s not exactly a rake, is he?”

  “Oh, Mama. I am doomed for a life of spinsterhood. Before I know it, they shall be tittering behind their fans and calling me Lady Thornback.”

  “Flapdoodle,” she scoffed. “All men eventually realize the error of their ways.”

  “Usually, when it is too late.”

  “No, he will come round. You may depend upon it. And if he doesn’t…I shall see to it.”

  “Oh, Mama. Do not make any ripples in the water. If Lord Tisbury wants me without proving his love for me, then I think I should continue on my own path, without him. I won’t have him unless I know he loves me true. I think I shall retire to the library for the rest of the night. I feel like getting lost amongst my old friends.”

  Her mother chuckled. “Don’t stay away from the ball. You do what you must, dear. You shall have to pick the time and place to let Mr. Newson down, or else, I shall warn him away from you. You can’t keep him dangling on the hook forever—your looks won’t always stay as you are. You shall start to wither and then, no man will want you. Do not fall prey to that state, I beg of you.”

  “I shan’t.” She forced the words out with a smile on her face. Her mama had started to soften even if she couldn’t dispense altogether with her barbed tongue.

  “Take heart, dear girl. You will have all that you have ever wanted. I shall see to it.”

  Her mother’s confidence served to give Lydia a bit of hope, and she consoled herself with the fact that her mother wasn’t her enemy. When they were fighting Napoleon, they should have just sent Euphemia Radcliff over to deal with the Corsican devil. She would have avoided a lot of bloodshed. Lydia would pray that Lord Tisbury loved her the way she loved him.

  If he didn’t—all was lost. Her heart, her mind and her soul.

  ichard eagerly scanned the crowd for Lydia. He wanted to engage her in the first dance.

  There were several pretty young ladies whom he had almost mistaken for her, and had almost lived to regret his mistake. Those young ladies were hungry. They viewed the marriage market as hunting season, and they didn’t care what gentleman or lord they landed.

  “She hasn’t emerged from her bedchamber yet,” Micah said. “Something has happened. I do not know what, but Rose was talking to her earlier this evening. I fear she has decided to accept Mr. Newson.”

  Icy shards of dread sliced through Richard’s blood. Anger slowly melted the ice, and within seconds, he was almost raving mad. He remained silent. He couldn’t allow her to marry Mr. Newson. He could see the foppish man across the room talking avidly to another young lady with whom Richard wasn’t acquainted. His laughter was loud and boisterous and rang out over the voices of everyone else at the ball. He was not good enough for his Lydia, and no matter what it took, Richard would make Lydia his. The gauntlet had been thrown down, and he was now more than ready to rise to the occasion. Never before in his life had he been so tempted to march across that distance and draw Newson’s cork, knocking him flat on his arse, and while it would give him deep satisfaction, it would cause an unfortunate scene.

  “Is there a way for you to arrange for Lydia and I to have…a moment alone?” he asked Micah, trying with all of his strength to retain his composure.

  “Surely, you must be talking about another Lydia?” Micah asked, furrowing his brow.

  “It shan’t be the first time we have been alone,” Richard pointed out gently.

  “It will be the first time you’ll be alone with those wicked thoughts that are currently dancing a little waltz through your head,” Micah returned. “You will marry her? I have you at your word? I shan’t…I shan’t have you ruin her and leave her, Tisbury.” So now, it was Tisbury. Micah did mean business.

  “I will,” Richard said tersely. “And I shall do it without besmirching her in any way. I merely wish to speak with her in private. You needn’t fear, Everley. Your sister has no reason to fear me, I shall never hurt her.”

  Micah looked long and hard at him, assessing him. Trying to see if he was being truthful or not. He bristled a bit under the scrutiny. Did the man not trust him based on all of the years they had been friends?

  “You can meet her in the library,” Micah relented, finally. “I shall stand guard outside. If I hear anything amiss, I shall promptly charge to my sister’s rescue, you may depend upon it.”

  “Your sister will never require rescuing from me, Everley.”

  “You best hope not,” Micah said. “We have been friends for many years, old man, but our friendship notwithstanding…I will look after the interests of my sister. I won’t have her future trampled upon.”

  “It shan’t be. She is in good hands with me. I fear if I do not speak with her and make my intentions clear, she might do something we shall both later regret. I fear she will promise herself to him as you said, just to spite me.”

  He looked across the room at James Newson, and Micah followed his steady gaze. “I won’t have that. I shan’t have a crashing bore like Mr. Newson in the family. On second thought, Tisbury, you do what you have to do. I ought not to have do
ubted you. As far as I am concerned Lydia is safe whilst in your charge. I never should have insulted you by intimating otherwise. If only…if only you already had the special license in your possession.”

  Richard looked away from him. “What would you say if I told you that I had that document already in my possession?”

  “I would say you somehow worked a miracle. No lord could procure one in such a timely fashion, not even one with your contacts. Or…” Micah looked quizzically at him. “Have you been…plotting for this end all along? You’re known for your strategies, aren’t you, Richard?”

  “Indeed, I am a proficient strategist, and I am a man known to ready myself for all sorts of trouble, and our Lydia is trouble, you may depend upon it. I have—” He cleared his throat. “I have been devoted to Lydia for quite some time now. I shall always rue the fact that I went chasing after another lass, and threw Lydia over, and now I must work to make amends for my past actions. Nonetheless, I am not as ignorant to what goes on in the ton as some might think, old chap. I like to keep myself apprised of all the gossip, and I happen to have a mother who is greatly invested in Lydia’s future. She talks of nothing else—to me, anyway. I knew about James Newson’s interest in Lydia probably before you did. I wish to make it known to Lydia that there can never be another man for her. She and I shall be devoted to each other for the rest of our lives. She only needs to be made to see sense.”

  “Lydia might still be cross with you for chasing the former Miss Duffy. I know that deliberate act hurt her terribly.”

  “At that time, I was unaware of her feelings toward me. I have freely admitted it. I was a bloody fool. I was on even ground with the village idiot. I can never atone for my behavior, though I shall try.”

  “You might want to get on your knees and kiss her feet, old chap.” Micah grinned. “Of course, that might not be to your liking.”

  Richard laughed. “I shall go and wait in the library. Hopefully, you can find a way to convince your sister to go there?”

  “I think I just might be able to manage it.”

  Nodding his head at him, Richard left the ballroom and made his way to the grand library that Maidstone House boasted. The footman looked at him strangely, before opening the door for him.

  Odd. He’d never had a servant look at him like that before. He shrugged it off, and went to stand by the inviting fire. He stiffened as he felt the presence of another. Over the years, Richard had developed keen enough senses to be more aware of his surroundings than most people were. He turned to see Lydia sitting in one of the large leather armchairs, fast asleep. Christ Almighty. His heart dipped into the pit of his stomach, and for one split second he had the sensation that all was right with his world. He swallowed thickly. She looked so beguiling. Like an angel who’d fallen from heaven. The firelight captured her haunting beauty. He had never seen her like this before. His heart burned. God. He wanted her so badly. He should leave. This wasn’t right. She was in a vulnerable state, and he felt like an interloper. The room was so quiet that only the sounds of the fire crackling along with her breathing, rent the silence. He’d been such a bloody fool. He should be slapped, nay, he should be beaten for what he had put her through. He had continually cast her aside for others who couldn’t even hold a candle to her loveliness.

  Her eyes flew open as if she had read his mind. For one brief moment, she seemed happy to see him, and then her expression shifted. His stomach dipped at the look that now shone in her eyes. Not anger. Hurt. His very presence seemed to bring her pain.

  “Lord Tisbury,” she whispered, her voice still laced with sleepiness and a little confusion. “What…what are you doing?”

  “I’m perusing one of your brother’s treasures.”

  She didn’t seem taken in by his attempt at flirtation. “Ah, yes. You think I’m one of my brother’s possessions, soon to be one of your own. I am not surprised.” She snapped shut the book that had laid open in her lap. “Many men in the ton believe that women are their chattel. I had hoped you were different. Alas, I was wrong. I’ve been wrong about so many things of late.” Her voice turned cold. He shook his head, feeling quite at a loss. He’d just plunged his foot ankle deep into his mouth, and had no way out. She was treating him as if he were a stranger to her—and the shock of it pained him to his soul. Where was Jamie? The laughing, easygoing Jamie who looked so spirited. Aye, she’d been in costume, but she’d seemed so free, and he yearned to see that side of her again.

  “I will have you as my wife,” he stated, without thinking again. He winced at his heavy-handed tone. His mouth seemed to have a bloody mind of its own. He had to remain quiet before he dug an even deeper hole for himself.

  “You will?” She was so close to him. He could just reach out and… Was he imagining it, or was that hope shining in her eyes now? He leaned closer to her, tripped and fell onto his knees. Ever the gentleman, he was now unintentionally on his knees in front of her. Splendid. He was as Micah had said, a buffoon. And he was about to completely ruin this moment as well with his oafishness.

  He was usually quite together, but whenever he was around Lydia he went to bloody pieces. He became quite the clodhopper, and she probably thought him the most ungraceful oaf in Christendom.

  “Are you asking me to marry you, or demanding that I marry you?” Her eyes narrowed perceptively, putting him on his guard. Nonetheless, he was going to charge through with his original intentions.

  “Dash it all, Lydia. I shan’t let you marry another man. I simply won’t have it,” he growled.

  “A demand, then,” she surmised, tilting her head in that adorable way of hers.

  “I pray you will see sense and reach deep into the cockles of your heart to find that you love me,” he whispered. Even his whisper sounded like a shout in the quiet and serene library.

  “I did, once, yes,” she confessed. He waited for her to continue and profess her love for him still. “I…I had girlish fantasies. I dreamt that you were the gentleman for me. I idolized you. I placed you high up on a pedestal, Lord Tisbury, and you…you do not deserve to be up there. Being Jamie has taught me a great many things, sir. It has opened my eyes to a whole new world, I’ve made friends with people whom I never would have met as Lady Lydia, and I’ve…I’ve decided I deserve more. I’ve decided I want more. I want you to think as highly of me as I think of you. I do not want to be begging for scraps anymore, my lord. I want…I want to be on even ground with you, and I do not believe you ever gazed upon me that way. You never believed I was a woman—only a girl—and a girl not worthy of your tender affections. It used to make me heartsick. I used to brood about it, but now I have this feeling of freedom. I know there is more to life, and before I put myself back into a gilded cage, I am going to make the best of it. If that hurts you, my lord, I am terribly sorry—but I cannot be what you want me to be anymore. You woke up and decided you wanted the old Lydia, but the old Lydia no longer exists. Jamie saw to that.”

  Her honest confession was like a harsh slap to his face. He winced, and looked away from her. He deserved every word, and then some. In fact, he even deserved an actual slap to the face for what he had done to her. “I wish I could change what happened between us. I was a fool. I admit it, but you…you cannot continue being Jamie by night and Lydia by day. And you made a wager with me when you were Jamie, or have you forgotten?”

  “What I do with my nights, sir, is absolutely no concern of yours. As for that wager, you should not expect me to honor it. I’m not done with Jamie yet, and I must remind you, sir, that you are not my master.”

  “Of course I’m not. I’m only looking out for your best interests.”

  “Devil take you, sir. You are looking out for your best interests. You lost out on another woman, so now you’ll take me. It is not to be borne, sir.”

  “Can we not be friends?”

  “We will always be friends,” she relented. “But you are not my favorite person right now, Lord Tisbury. You have treated me in a most bea
stly manner.”

  “I want you, Lydia. And you are not a woman to break your word.”

  “Well, you can’t have me. You can’t have me without winning me back, sir. You lost me. My heart might still belong to you, I can’t change how it feels no matter how hard I try, but mark my words, Lord Tisbury. I won’t follow your lead blindly anymore. I shall remain unwed, or marry another man over marrying a man who never truly sees the real me. You don’t, you know. The first time you spied the real me was when you came with me to the boxing match, and I fear, I fear you didn’t like what you saw.”

  “I did,” he confessed. “I liked it probably a little too much.”

  She looked at him with eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You shall have to woo and win me, Lord Tisbury, and pray that you succeed before another young gentleman does.”

  “I will have you, Lydia, and I will win that wager.”

  “That’s the problem with men of your station, my lord. They think they can take whatever they like, and damn the consequences, and yes, I shall swear whether you approve or not.”